


[Spoilers]He needs this...

by lillian333



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:05:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5937928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillian333/pseuds/lillian333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So things didn't go according to plan with this story. Alt Ending for Trespasser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[Spoilers]He needs this...

The pain comes more insistent now, every pulse a reminder of everything that has happened. They have saved the world from Corypheus brought peace to Orlais, to mages, to templars, saved the wardens and now two years later stopped a Qunari invasion. It is too much for one person, for one elf to handle and it is not so strange that the mark is killing him now that the work is done. Will he be forgotten just like Ameridan? Maybe that is for the best, with the betrayal of S…Fen’Harel, it is best that the people forget that the inquisitors were of the elven people.

He sighs, Metherius made sure to hide his pain but they suspect and soon he will have to go out to deal with the fate of the Inquisition. He has no desire to do so; he just wants to pass away peacefully, alone, not being a bother to anybody. Fen’Harel said that Methe could survive if he cut of his arm. He sees no reason for why he should survive though, enough has been asked of him that death feels like a respite. It will be hard on everybody he has befriended, especially Dorian. Hopefully he can last just a few more hours, just a few until Dorian returns to his beloved Tevinter. 

He is no longer needed in this world, it was all good and well to not be treated as slave but all good things come to an end. His friends are going their separate ways and he will have nothing but empty rooms after the inquisition disbands.

Standing up Metherius clutches the crystal Dorian gave him, an unconscious gesture as the anchor sparks with a jolt of pain that makes him wince. With a sigh and practiced precision Metherius picks up fresh bandages and wraps them around his arms until the anchors glow is hidden. He has always worn bandages so nobody will give it a second thought, even if they are thicker than usual. ‘Deep breath, they will not notice that you are dying.’ Metherius steels his expression as years of being a slave has taught him and goes out. 

Dorian is pacing back and forth a few feet in front of Methe’s assigned room, clearly contemplating whether he should go in. Methe smirks at his lover’s worried form and steps forward “Dorian… Emma-lath. Do stop pacing, it’s not good for your health and stop worrying you’ll get wrinkles.” Dorian just about jumps, frowns at his lover, who eyes are empty despite the smile “My health!? You’re asking about my health? I saw how that stupid anchor sparked! You say you are okay just as you always do but I know you’re not! …” Dorian sighs, taking Methe’s palms in his gently, afraid to hurt, leaning his forehead against the Inquisitors scalding one. “You have a fever… Amatus please, we can help you… we can do something.” Methe kisses Dorian tenderly, “Ma vhenan, I will be all right. Why would the anchor kill me now? It was fine during the breach and the two years that you were gone, it has no reason to hurt me now.” Dorian doesn’t look convinced. “It will be all right, I’m an elf I should know. So… Fen…. Fen’Harel himself said that the orb can’t hurt me. So stop worrying, it will be all right.” Methe tries to comfort but the words sound hollow to his ears, Dorian seems to relax though. “If you say so… Amatus, do rest after all this Inquisition business is over.” Dorian kisses him on the cheek and they separate. “I will be leaving later this evening for Tevinter, after the council is over.” Methe nods, he has to hold on to strength until then… just a bit more. “Promise you won’t leave without saying goodbye.” Methe says, smiling, trying to muster up some feeling of happiness. “I wouldn’t think of it, Amatus.” They part and Methe makes his way through the halls to the outside, breathing in the rain. It is pouring and his black locks quickly become drenched, sticking to his Vallaslin uncomfortably. He won’t be the prettiest sight when he does climb up all those damnable stairs that send a jolt of pain through his being with each step. At the top Josie stands just by the door to the council chamber. Methe stumbles slightly at the top “Inquisitor! Are you alright?” He waves her of. “I am fine, Da’len.” He straightens, runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

Methe doesn’t like this room, it brings back painful memories. People above him… staring down, measuring, as though he is a sheep for sale. No! This isn’t the same, he has power here. Methe struts across the room, trying to look as in control as possible. The murmuring cuts of as soon as he reaches the table and slams down the inquisition charter “Enough! This debate is redundant! From this point I as the Metherius Lavellan disband the Inquisition and return all its holdings to their rightful owners and withdraw any armies stationed around Thedas. Skyhold will be signed over to me and my descendants and will become a shelter for elven kind.” Speech finished he turns and leaves just as he came in, leaving for Josie to pick the pieces. He did send her a missive before doing that so she actually knew what was going. The rain has increased in intensity and Methe doesn’t really want to walk back so he just stand there enjoying the pitter patter of rain drops. Cullen joins him, “Inquisitor.” Cullen tips his head in acknowledgement of rank. “Now that the Inquisition is no more, what do you plan to do?” Methe sighs ‘To die in peace’ he thinks then says “No reason to change what we were doing. Just because we do not have a banner does not mean we should cease trying to bring order to Thedas. Maker knows it needs this.” The maker… Methe never believed in much of anything but he will find out now won’t he? His people’s gods, the Dalish god’s were just mortals, just mages. He thinks bitterly, mages have corrupted everything. They watch the rain for a few minutes before Cullen speaks. “Whatever you do, I will stay by your side till the end, Inquisitor.” Methe nods and smiles lightly and Cullen leaves. Then its Lelliana’s turn to come talk to him “Your Worship, How do you feel?” her eyes saying don’t lie or I’ll smack you. “I’m fine” he takes a deep breath “I will be fine, Lilly” Her gaze is set to burn. “No, try again.” Methe smirks briefly “Lilly, I’m sure you know, the Nightingale knows everything. We can’t do anything though, so please let everybody think I am fine. I don’t want comfort, I don’t want pity. They need an Inquisitor who takes care of them, not some child, not a damaged slave.” She looks down sadly and says “But who takes care of you…?” before leaving. Hopefully she will not try to do anything. Methe sighs again, and then in resignation at the weather finds a nearby bench to sit on. Maybe he will be left alone now… he thinks briefly before Cole jumps down from the balcony above and into the covered patio, dripping with rain. “Pain, Loneliness, Death, Alone….” Cole starts digging around, Methe panics, jumping up before losing his balance and plopping down again “Cole!!!Shit.” the spirit continues. “Want to be Alone, I’m… I’m dying, I will join my clan…” Methe gets up slower this time and lays a gentle hand on the spirits drenched one.“ Cole… stop” The spirit listens now or he has run out of thoughts to read “Why do you want to die? We can save you, I know we can, you know we can.” Cole is crying, “Hey, Da’len. It’s all right, shh, come on, don’t cry. I’m sorry.” Methe hugs him, Cole has been better with emotions since he started the dating the little bard girl but still he may not understand as he has not lost anybody before. “You always say sorry while you hurt so much. Why? .... To live, to survive, to not be a burden” Cole asks then answers “Cole that’s enough, I do not want everybody to know.” He nods and Methe lets go, stepping back. “Dying will not stop your hurt Metherius.” He says in his all knowing cold spirit voice. Methe shudders. “Thank you Cole, I know you want to help. I’ll be fine.” If he says fine enough times maybe he will believe, maybe he’ll want it. Cole doesn’t leave but sits down on the bench and Methe does as well. The company of the spirit does make him feel better, emotionally. 

The rain berates the earth for close to an hour and then relaxes to a low drizzle. Methe fell into a light sleep which is disturbed by Josie. “Inquisitor, wake up, It’s time go.” Methe shakes of the fog of sleep. “Right, Yes. I apologize for causing any delay.” He gets up sluggishly, his limbs heavy, threatening to give out. His head burns, making it hard to think, his chest aches, breaths shallow and pained. He hides it as best he can as he follows Josephine. Just have to make it to my quarters, I won’t last till Skyhold. He thinks taking the first unsteady step down the stairs. Down below he sees Dorian in all his Tevinter glory, fastening bags to his horse. When he sees the Inquisitor emerge he waves and smiles, even though Methe does not see it from that far. The Inquisitor waves back smiling the takes a deep breath, trying to focus his gaze, to stop the stairs from swimming. Hold on just a little bit longer. Thankfully he walks straight enough for most of the staircase, only two more steps. The anchor chooses a most unfortunate time to spark and burn. Methe lets out a shout of pain unwillingly, trips and falls into the muddy ground “AMATUS!” Dorian shouts with concern, running over to the elf. Methe tries to get up but fails, Dorian gets close enough to help and turns him around so he is facing dark swirling sky. “Are you alright, Amatus?” It is a stupid question as Methe’s eyes move erratically and his breathing almost to the point of wheezing. The elf coughs, anchor sparking, burning through the bandages, rain drops evaporating as they land on the mark. Cullen and Leliana have run over, with mimicked shouts of ‘Inquisitor!’ I’m not the inquisitor anymore, they need to remember that. He tries to speak but it just comes out as a pained whine. He needs to say he will be fine, he can’t die here. He lets his eyes flicker shut. “Amatus! Keep your eyes open, look at me. Somebody get a healer!” Dorian’s voice cracks. Methe feels the anchor eating away at his body quickly and painfully. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen! He was supposed to be alone. Methe struggles to lift a hand but it is too much of an effort. The whispers of the pool, get louder stronger. ‘No, Live, Hold, Cut of The Anchor, You need to live Lethallin they urge him to live and he feels their power fighting the anchor. He feels as his body is lifted, as he leaves Dorian’s arms, which let go reluctantly. It’s all a blur as he is carried somewhere, his quarters perhaps. They set him down in a soft bed that smells of Orleasian roses, a smell he always hated. Methe feels a warm, smooth hand grasp his. It’s comforting and he tries to squeeze it but his body won’t respond. I need to say goodbye…

Dorian sits by his dying lover’s side, concerned. The healers told him they just don’t know what to do. The anchor is nothing like anybody has seen before and the Inquisitor forbade any research on it after Dorian left. Did Metherius know he was dying? I shouldn’t have left, I saw something wrong and yet…Amatus, Why? Dorian sighs, kissing Methe’s unresponsive hand. His breathing comes less frequently with every passing moment. Cole comes in after everybody leaves Dorian alone. “Lungs hurt, like claws scratching at my chest, its cold, so cold but it burns, Mythal make it stop. Anybody please it hurts” Cole takes out a dagger and keeps going. “ I’m sorry, Ir abelas, Ir abelas, Dorian, Ma halani, Ma vhenan, Ma ghilana mir din ‘ann…” (Sorry, Sorry, Dorian, Help me, my heart, guide me to my death) Dorian notices the dagger and jumps up “Cole, what are you doing?” the spirit tilts his head. “We can save him, I can save him. He doesn’t want to be saved but I can help him. It will hurt him but it will help you. He doesn’t have long, we have to help now!” Dorian is uncertain but then nods and steps aside. Cole comes closer with the dagger, placing it against the skin of the arm. Metherius opens his eyes and gets up of the bed, faster than should be possible, and slams Cole against the wall. “Elgar,Va Da’len elvarel nuvenin sulendin. Na din ar Mythal”. (Spirit, Our little child no longer wants to endure, He dies in service to Mythal.) “He may not want this but he needs it! I know he does. We need it!” The creature in control of Metherius lets go of Cole and seems to think, then fades causing Methe to collapse, Dorian catches him this time “Cole, what happened?” The young spirit crouches. “The pool wants him, it wants a body, it wants to be but it also wants to see the Inquisitors future.” Cole takes the dagger places the tip right above where the bone is and pierces it, not giving anybody a chance to reconsider. Methe convulses and hisses, the anchor sparks, trying to burn the spirit. Cole uses the dagger to separate the arm completely at the shoulder. “It’s done, he will still die from blood loss, burn it Dorian.” The mage acts quickly, putting a cloth between the young elf’s teeth and casts the spell. Metherius faints, but his condition is already getting better. He will live.

Metherius wakes up hours later in his room, on the bed resting in the arms of his lover. He lets his eyes flicker open; his body feels light, free. The pain of the anchor is gone but there is still a faint familiar tingling. He groans and coughs causing Dorian to awaken. “Amatus, don’t move. You’re okay.” Methe looks around, the room is empty, and there is a dent on the wall by the bed. “What…” he breaks into a coughing fit. “Here, Drink.” Dorian offers some water from the bedside table. Methe starts to take it but his right arm isn’t responsive. He scrunches his eyebrows and looks down. He yelps trying to back away, bumping into Dorian causing him to drop the glass of water which shatters on the floor. Methe closes his eyes and whines, trembling slightly then regaining his composure, in a raspy voice saying “Abelas! …. Sorry, I… I’m fine.” Dorian sighs shakes the water from his hand and kisses the foolish elf on the forehead. “Amatus, do stop apologizing, that was a perfectly normal reaction.” Methe doesn’t react but looks down again, running his left hand over the stump. “Ar'din nuvenin… I didn’t want this.” Dorian brushes Methe’s matted hair down. “Why, why did you not want to li… to live?” the Tevinter chokes. “Look at me!” Methe sinks down bunching his shoulders then looks at Dorian. “I have seen too much, I am too old to stay. All of you leaving, I thought it was time. It would have been better for all of Thedas if I and the Inquisition disappeared quietly. Just like Ameridan…” Metherius has been trying really hard not to cry but fails. “Shhh, Amatus. You’re okay now...”

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, things didn't the way I wanted. I was trying to kill the inquisitor but I just couldn't go through with it. Maybe one day, Ill take Methe from Dorian and give the pool a body. Any thoughts appreciated~


End file.
